much importance was attached to this event, may be inferred from the allusion to it in the following extract from the private journal of president Appleton."Oct. 10, 1813. As to the college, the dealings of God have been mysterious. A year since, Mr. Southgate was here, full of zeal and Christian excellence. He made great exertions for the salvation of the students. From these exertions, I had much hope. But God has been pleased, in infinite wisdom, I doubt not, to remove him. He fell sweetly asleep in Jesus. Cargill, a pious student, where is he? Sick; and, I fear, will never return. O God, thy footsteps are not known. Righteous art thou when I plead with thee, and when I talk of thy judgments. We have recently admitted one pious student, and hope for another. O Lord, how much does he need divine support! I pray thee, O God! to give him ardent, but well-regulated zeal! Give him prudence, cheerfulness, and resolution! Lord, send us more of this character. Excite Christians to pray for us, and to use their influence for us."

Although no immediate and marked results followed the efforts of these few individuals, they, doubtless, by their example, their exhortations, and their prayers, contributed much-how much none can tell-to the moral and religious improvement which soon became apparent in the institution. In 1816, a deep interest in religion was manifested among the students, and six or eight gave evidence of religious character. It was a new event in the history of the college, and excited the liveliest gratitude in the friends of religion. The emotions which it awakened in the breast of president Appleton, are recorded in his journal. Under date of November 28, 1816, he writes, "as it respects college, in addition to common mercies which still continue in abundance, God has been pleased, as I hope, to visit several of the students with his saving health. We do hope, that at least six of the number have been transformed by the renewing of the mind. A few others are serious, but we fear concerning them. The seriousness has been attended with silent, but deep anxiety, which has gradually given way to hope-a hope, feeble and intermitting, but slowly acquiring strength. This is a great thing-a very great thing. It is what we have been long praying and longing for. To be sure, we did, a few weeks since, hope that more would be done. But blessed be God that he has done so much. A third of the students, or very nearly that proportion, are now hoped to be pious. It is but a little while since we had none of this description. When I review what I wrote October 10, 1813, and compare the state of college with what it is now, I am constrained to say, that the Lord hath done great things! Oh may those who hope that Christ is formed in them, manifest, by the suavity of their temper, and the purity, and prudence, and holiness of their lives, the power and excellence of religion!

The college has since been favored with seasons of special interest in religion, in 1826, in 1831, and 1834. May it be the unceasing prayer of its friends that it may ever be thus favored of Heaven!

At the present time, this college numbers 235 students, of whom eighty are connected with the medical school. The officers of instruction and government are a president, who instructs the senior class in the evidences of religion and in Butler's Analogy, and delivers lectures on the various topics of theology and practical religion; a professor of chemistry, mineralogy and natural philosophy; of anatomy and surgery; of the theory and practice of physic; of obstetrics; of rhetoric and oratory, who also instructs in political economy and civil polity; of languages and classical literature; of metaphysics and ethics, who gives instruction also in Hebrew; of mathematics; and of the modern languages. The college library contains about 8,000 volumes, the medical library, about 3,000. There are, besides, the libraries of two literary societies among the students, each containing more than 3,000 volumes, and the library of the theological society of about 600 volumes. The chemical apparatus is complete : the philosophical apparatus, sufficient for a course of lectures in that department. The buildings of the institution are seven in number; two of them dwellings of wood, occupied by the president and one of the professors; a commodious commons' hall of brick, where a large proportion of the students have board under their own direction; a chapel of wood, the second story of which is occupied by the college library; two large buildings of brick, four stories

high, in which the students reside, and a third, of three stories, in which are the apparatus and lecture rooms, and the medical library and cabinet. The second story of this building is occupied by a gallery of paintings, and a spacious mineralogical cabinet, comprising 6,000 specimens. It is in contemplation to erect, as soon as the requisite means can be obtained, an additional building for the use of students, and also one for a chapel, which shall contain the library and paintings. These buildings, with the exception of the dwelling-houses and the commons' hall, when the original plan is completed, will form a quadrangle, the side towards the public road being open. In regard to the funds, we can only say, that they will sustain the present establishment, but will not authorize further improvements, or even procure those accommodations which the increase of the college and the advancement of society require.

INDIVIDUAL RESPONSIBILITY.

[Communicated by Samuel H. Walley, Jun., Esq., Boston.]

WE are disposed to forget that we are individuals, and to think only of our connection with society. From the cradle to the grave, we are creatures of dependence and association. When we open our eyes, for the first time intelligibly, upon the world we inhabit, we discover many around us whose study seems to be to minister to our comfort and enjoyment. As we advance to childhood, we are still the creatures of dependence, and find fresh proof each day of our helplessness. As we approach to middle life, we are borne along with the throng. The family at home, the playmates abroad, the companions of the school, the merchant's shop, or the farm, constitute the world to our view; the opinion of others is our law; their approbation we covet, their frown we shun.

But look, for a moment, at middle life-where is the individual of our race? He is like some chemical substance which may be dissolved at pleasure in a dozen different solvents which will unite readily and perfectly with each. To-day is the day of holy rest, and he unites with the congregation in public worship-to-morrow he is one of a bar of lawyers, or of a collection of merchants or mechanics, whose united opinion governs his conduct. The next day is appointed for the election of his rulers-he is with his partywhat is he doing? asking for whom he shall vote, or perhaps he is with the crowd on 'change, and forgets that it is election day. Where is he next? Attending a public discussion. Does he mingle in the debate? No, he waits to discover where the majority lies; or if he is very firm and resolute in his views in opposition to the majority, he seeks to ascertain who compose the minority, before he joins them publicly. Again, we find him brought to the test on some question of moral or religious duty. Does he act in conformity with the instructions he received and approved on the Sabbath? Yes, if they accord with public sentiment, he does; otherwise, he does

not.

Next comes the man of riper years, he has passed the prime of manhood-he has learned many sad lessons by experience, and may be expected to conform his conduct to these teachings; but is it so? Far from it. He is opposed to innovation-prefers old to new-dislikes this constant change of customs and practices-adheres to old associations and companions, and stands by their creed in politics, ethics, and religion. Thus he glides on to old age, when his habits have become so known and fixed,

that he is never spoken of by himself but as a known part of a unit; and if you can tell where the unit will be, you will of course know where its parts are. So he lives, and so old age finds him-so he dies.

Neither is it true of our sex alone, that the individual is lost in the circle of individuals. It is no less true of our female friends. How are their early characters moulded, and their plastic minds fashioned by the influence of their young associates. As a general fact, they not only do not act for themselves, they ofttimes do not dare even to think for themselves. With what superior strength does fashion hold them captives. How passively do they obey her arbitrary laws and maxims, extending, as they do, from the most trifling article of apparel, to the influence which conscience may be permitted to exert upon the daily walk and conversation. Where can the female be found, who acts for herself, and according to her own views of right and wrong, propriety or impropriety, except so far as those views are adopted as her own after comparing them with the opinions of the circle in which she moves. Nay, more; if we might be unobserved witnesses of the musings of a lady's mind, when seated by herself, and honestly, as she believes, seeking to ascertain her own views and feelings; how much of independence and originality should we detect in her mental responses? Though unseen (as she imagines) by any created eye, yet the expression of her thoughts would be only the echo of what she had acquired before in her intercourse with others. There are exceptions, but this, we believe, is generally a correct description. Take, for example, one in fashionable life; she has casually slipped from her daily circle, and has encountered a different influence; she has seen exposed many follies and inconsistencies in her present course, and conscience has seconded the appeal which is made to her to change her habits. She hears, thinks, and at last decides in accordance with the opinions of those with whom she usually associates; and the only probable (we had almost said possible) way to induce her to change her course, is to prevail on her to leave those who entertain one class of opinions and habits, for those who maintain the opposite ones. She must break caste, before she can change habit.

But take another example. Suppose one who is of a high moral and religious character; her intimates are found in this class. She becomes convinced of the inconsistency of a course which she, in common with them, is pursuing; but their eyes are not opened to perceive its evil effects, and she cannot make them regard the matter as she does. Will she, after re-examination of the subject, act according to her convictions, or will she yield her individual views to their collective sentiment? We speak now simply of the question of responsibility, assuming that she has taken the necessary precaution to be entirely satisfied in her own mind, that she is right; since in doubtful cases, she would naturally justify herself by submitting her opinion to that of others.

But in order to a full examination of this subject, we will point out more particularly what we intend by individual responsibility; show its connection with moral courage and decision of character; explain how it happens that it is so rarely found; what effects it has produced when it has appeared; how it may be guarded from abuse; and how desirable it is, thus guarded, at all times and under all circumstances, but emphatically at the present day, in the political and moral exigencies of our times, and to the young men of this age.

And here let us premise, that by individual responsibility, we do not intend an eager and insatiate grasping at authority, and thirsting for power; an unwarrantable assumption of dominion; a sullen confidence and stub

born pertinacity in opinions rashly formed. Such traits as these are sometimes found; they are generally the effect of flattery, combined with past success, and they make the subject of them quite reckless of the opinion of his fellows. When found in a warrior, they sometimes lead on to victory, but the path is beset with dangers, and while one reaches the goal, hundreds perish on the course.

When manifested in a statesman, these traits will lead to deeds of daring and independence, but no less of a foolhardiness, that ofttimes makes its subject fall a victim to his own self-will and mad obstinacy. When pressed with arguments which carry conviction to the unprejudiced mind, and plied with motives which amount to moral demonstration, the unfortunate man, feeling at a loss for intellectual weapons of sufficient temper to parry the attack, will console himself with the hasty purpose of pressing on his own plans to their accomplishment at all hazards, and silences all remark with the simple exclamation, " I assume the responsibility!"

With this explanation of what is not intended, we say that by individual responsibility, we understand a readiness to act and to be judged of in our individual capacity, rather than in our various connections with society. Suppose, for example, that several persons are living independently of each other and of the rest of mankind; they know no law but their individual will, and acknowledge obligation to no created being. Let these men be brought together, and be made to understand each other's views and feelings; let it be proposed by one, that they should agree to be governed by certain rules; that they should contribute a specified portion of the result of their labor to promote the good of all, &c., and let the advantages which would result from such a course be also stated; the security which each would derive from the fellowship and vigilance of all, and the other benefits of social life; and in determining whether it were best to merge their present separate state in this social form of existence, each one would think, and speak, and act strictly for himself, and his determination would be formed wholly upon his own judgment and feelings. In a word, he would act upon his individual responsibility. Such an one acts more entirely for himself than would be practicable or desirable in our circumstances, because his own happiness or promotion is the only motive present to his mind. But taking society as it at present exists, it is practicable, we apprehend, that each member of it should act in view of the obligation which rests upon him as a distinct independent part of this society. Strength and influence may flow from association and combination, but after all, the will of individuals is necessary to form the combination, and the rule to be adopted is, Shall I be justified in countenancing a given course? whether the course proposed be, as in the case first supposed, to form society; or, after it has been formed, to act in our associated capacity. All reflection, investigation and inquiry, should have reference to this object. Feeling a constant and strong sense of accountability for our actions as individuals, we should think and act accordingly. And further, not only would we insist that all our conduct should be governed by this rule, but that we should be as ready to act, and as firm in our purpose, after having marked out our course, as if we constituted one of an associated number, who had come to a like result.

The inquiry often put in secret is, "What will he say," or "What will he think," if I do thus and so. This is wrong. In considering what is duty, in the first instance, it becomes us to weigh well and carefully, all the circumstances which have a bearing upon it. And here, the question of expediency often presents itself with great force; but after we have dis

posed of all preliminaries, we should never allow ourselves to be swayed or an instant, by reason of our connection with society in any shape.

Our next inquiry, regards the connection which subsists between indi vidual responsibility, and moral courage and decision of character. By moral courage, we understand a willingness to follow the dictates of an enlightened conscience at all hazards; and by decision of character, that marked and steady course of action, which singles out an individual for praise or blame according as he directs it. It is that which gives separateness and unity to his conduct. He is known, as it were, rather as a firm oak, which resists the storms and continues to grow erect and strong, than as one of a forest which is celebrated for its general appearance of strength or beauty. The existence, therefore, of these traits, directly tends to develope the character which we have described. This seems too obvious to require explanation; since the man who obeys his conscience, under a l circumstances, will, of necessity, be the man who will be ready to incur any responsibility in the discharge of his duty. He is not the man to be intimidated by a fear of consequences, nor to be affected by a regard to the smile or the frown of others. And, as the character, like every thing else, gains strength by exercise, such a man will derive fresh energy from past success for each new effort, and by adopting a course of action well matured in his own mind before commencing, and steadily persevered in afterwards, he will always be relied on by his fellow-men, and they will universally accord to him his due; which cannot be more correctly expressed than by saying that he possesses decision of character.

It is apparent, however, that decision of character is not exclusively the property of the virtuous. In one sense, indeed, it always commands respect, because when it attaches to those who are counted as injurious to society, it is always safer than a shuffling, dubious course of conduct, which always keeps us fearful of results that we cannot guard against ; and it is better to be able to depend upon what course a foe will pursue, than not to know an enemy from a friend; but from the nature of the case, character may be uniform, firm and decided, whether it be good or bad; and therefore we must look to the grounds upon which it is based, to learn what kind of character it is. So of individual responsibility; a man may be willing and ready to act for himself and by himself, and yet act wrong. But we apprehend that if his conduct is the effect of moral courage, as we have defined it, there will be but little danger of aberrations from virtue. If he daily invokes wisdom and direction from the fountain of wisdom; if, by communion with heaven, and a faithful scrutiny of God's word, he seeks to instruct his conscience; and when any case presents itself for decision, puts himself in possession of all the information he can command, and then submits to the verdict of conscience, applying the principles in which she has been instructed, he need not fear to meet the scrutiny of man; to take upon himself the responsibility of his actions; to submit his character to the ordeal of public investigation; for he has right and truth on his side, and he can abide the test.

But, we ask next, if this individuality of character, thus explained, is so desirable, whence does it come to pass, that it is so rarely to be met with? Why are we so merged and lost in the sea of association, as that it rarely happens that one acts-generally it is the many.

We have, in part, anticipated the answer to this inquiry, in our introductory remarks, in saying that it is owing, in no small degree, to early dependence, and the habit of association which we acquired in infancy. We see the proof of this remark, by comparing civilized with savage life.